


The Opportune Moment

by ParacausalJengram



Series: The Bird and The Bolt [5]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Holliday ships it, Love Confessions, Self-Indulgent, Sharing a Bed, the ghosts ship it, this could go off the rails at any point based on my mood and confidence level
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParacausalJengram/pseuds/ParacausalJengram
Summary: When dread and anxiety keep Crow awake at night, he finds himself seeking out Asteryn at Glint's suggestion. Alternatively: how many opportunities to kiss the girl can one Lightbearer miss, and how many people can roast him for it?---Relationship-forming between my Awoken Hunter, Asteryn, and the softest boy, Crow. Lore inspiration included at the start of each chapter when relevant.
Relationships: Female Guardian/Crow, Female Guardian/The Crow, Female Guardian/Uldren Sov
Series: The Bird and The Bolt [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162769
Comments: 27
Kudos: 51





	1. Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is pure fluff, because I'm weak for everyone getting a good night of sleep. Will be multiple chapters with tags to be added as relevant. Might just turn this into where I add all of my Season of the Chosen stuff? Will play it by ear! Brief references to 'Found You' but all you really need to know from it is that the first time Crow met Asteryn her shot her, like a gentleman.
> 
> Lore references/inspiration: Sparky and the Scrivener 
> 
> Original Characters: Asteryn, Awoken Hunter, and her Ghost, Sheyd; brief mentions of Asteryn's fireteam, Exo Titan Zorah-13 and her Ghost, Rayya, and Human Warlock Callix.

Standing in her door, looking at her fresh-from-sleep eyes and the trails of light and tattoos across her skin that were revealed by her soft purple tunic and agonizingly short shorts, Crow’s words briefly failed him. Luckily, that’s what he had Glint for. As Crow’s mind gradually began to function again, Glint explained, “He can’t sleep. When he tries, he screams, and I don’t want him drawing attention like that here. I thought he might be able to come here for a bit, until he calms down?”

With a poorly concealed yawn, Asteryn stepped aside and gestured the pair in. “Of course. I’ll make some tea.”

Her quarters were small--one open room with a small kitchenette, a low table with floor cushions scattered around it, a small closet, and a bed covered with pillows and the softest-looking blanket he had ever seen. Piles of data pads littered the room, a few on and glowing softly. There was an overhead light hovering in the center, but she instead relied on strings of small blue engram-shaped lights draped around the room, like he imagined the lights at Dawning must have looked like. It was clear she didn’t spend much time here, but it was equally clear she still gave it as much of a personal touch as she could.

Slowly, he sank onto one of the floor cushions and peeled off his mask—it was almost exhilarating being outside of his own room with it off, even though she had seen his face many times before. He watched as she filled an electric kettle with water, then scooped tea leaves into a purple ceramic teapot decorated with twirling white vine patterns. Her tunic rode up slightly as she reached up, standing on her toes, to grab the tin of leaves, and he felt his face grow warm. There were angled bands of soft green dots, almost like freckles, around her upper arms and wrists, and vines of green wrapped around her thighs, starting just above her knees and disappearing underneath her clothes, although he could see where they emerged again to frame her spine before curving around her ribs towards her chest. Glint nudged him; he was blatantly staring. 

With a start, he realized she was pouring the water into the teapot--when had it finished it boiling? Just in time, Crow dragged his gaze away. Sheyd had floated over and laughed, quietly, but didn’t appear ready to rat him out to his Guardian. Oblivious, Asteryn set two mismatched mugs on the table, followed by the teapot and a plate of cookies, before collapsing onto the cushion opposite him. 

“Give the tea a couple minutes to steep, but dig into the cookies if you want,” she offered, gesturing and yawning again. This time she didn’t try to hide it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up,” he said, hands in his lap, not moving. 

She scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s not like we really need to sleep. Besides, you know I’d never turn you away.”

It almost made him laugh, because it was true. He did know, without hesitation or doubt, that if ever he needed anything, she would do it if she could. Crow wondered what he would call them, if pressed to put a name to what they had. Friends didn’t seem strong enough, but lovers--they weren’t there, not yet, even though he knew that’s where he wanted them to be, knew that’s what they were inextricably drawing towards. But they were young Lightbearers with all the time in the world, or so said Osiris, and this was something he refused to ruin by rushing. 

Not to mention the fact that they were both currently fighting a war, and he was living in perpetual fear of being cast out from the Tower and everything he was starting to hold dear about this new life, including her. They should probably be focusing on that.

Instead of replying, he reached out and picked up a cookie--Bittersweet Biscotti. That  _ did  _ make him laugh. “Please tell me these aren’t leftovers from Dawning. They were hard enough then. I don’t know if Glint can repair a chipped tooth.”

“I can!” Glint insisted, indignant at the slight towards his abilities.

Asteryn laughed, shaking her head. “I just made them, I promise. You can make cookies year-round--shocking, I know.” She poured steaming mugs of a softly fragranced tea for them as he bit into the cookie, the taste bringing memories to the surface of his mind. 

“You’ve gotten better at baking.” This time, instead of almost inedible, the cookies were pleasantly crunchy, the chocolate coating rich and even. “We met because of cookies like these,” he said, smiling.

“We did,” she agreed, grabbing one for herself. “Maybe that’s why they’re my favorite now.” Blushing, she seemed to realize what she said, and she quickly added, teasing, “Although I still haven’t fully gotten over you  _ shooting  _ me.”

His face fell, and the look on her face made it clear she wished she could take back what she said. Crow held the mug in his hands, staring into the tea’s surface, face clouded by steam. “I sometimes think about that, when I try to sleep,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “When I close my eyes, my mind keeps racing, faster than a Sparrow. I don’t always know why--sometimes, it’s just nameless, a deep, dark dread. Sometimes I remember suffocating over, and over, and over... But sometimes, it’s the faces of people--Eliksni, mostly--that I’ve killed, their eyes full of pain. And sometimes, it’s the faces of Guardians who have killed me, incandescent with hatred.” He sighed. “I never know which one is worse. But I have a particular hatred for reliving how I hurt you.” 

Her hands closed around his, causing him to look up into her face. This close, he could see the pale mint traces of the tattoos on her face, too, so similar to the soft blue of her skin. Her hair was a tangle of dark green, freed from her usual braid. Strands of it followed Sheyd as he hovered around her head, statically charged and drawn to his metal exterior. As always, her eyes were star-bright. 

“You did what you had to do to protect Glint. Besides, you didn’t hurt me in any way that matters. The good thing about being a Guardian is it takes a lot more than a shotgun shell or two to get on my bad side,” she smiled. “As for the rest... I can’t imagine what it feels like to be hated on sight by those who are supposed to be your allies. But I sometimes see my kills when I close my eyes, too, or relive my deaths.” 

“What do you do about it?” He asked, voice soft.

“Do you know that little overhang, near the hangar? The one facing the City, and the Traveler? I go there and sit with Sheyd. I'll take you there sometime, if you like. If I can’t do that, I try to focus on  _ why  _ I took those shots. On what I’m trying to protect with my lives, and what I’m trying to fight for. A day when I don’t need to take the bullet or draw the bowstring.”

He leaned closer, entranced by her voice. “Do you think we can make such a day happen?” 

She shrugged, but she was still smiling that soft, sleepy smile. “I don’t know. But I think we can try. I want to see a system that doesn’t necessarily need us. Does that sound strange?”

Crow laughed, shaking his head. “Yes. Also, impossible. But I like the sound of it.”

Asteryn smiled, taking her hands back to pick up her own mug. He immediately missed their warmth. Seeing Crow's expression, Sheyd chuckled. “You’re just as starry-eyed as she is, deep down.” 

“You don’t have to look that deep,” Glint replied, a smirk in his voice. “Did he tell you what he was like, when Osiris brought him here?” 

His Ghost needed no prompting to continue the story, telling Asteryn and Sheyd about Crow’s first days in the City. The tea was mild and sweet, and the warmth grounded him, as did the soft chatter of their Ghosts and Asteryn’s occasional comment or laugh. Part of him thought he should be embarrassed, and he occasionally offered weak protests when he thought Glint was having too much fun at his expense, but he couldn’t bring himself to be even slightly upset. Instead, he just felt safe, and warm in a way that had nothing to do with the hot drink in his hands. 

Before he knew it, he was struggling to keep his eyes open. The conversation had the cadence of a lullaby. Glint swiveled to him, doing his best not to shine light in his eyes. “This may have worked a little too well. We should get you back before you fall asleep on her table.” 

“Why don’t you just stay here?” Sheyd offered. His Guardian looked at him, blushing furiously, but Sheyd continued as though he hadn’t noticed a thing. “It’s really late, after all. You wouldn't want to attract unnecessary attention.” 

Crow looked to Asteryn, and he knew he was blushing as well. After a stunned moment, she seemed to recover. “I… I don’t mind, if you want to.” She said it more to her mug than to him. “My bed is kind of small, but we’d both fit. Or you can take it, and I’ll make a floor cushion nest. I’ve done that before, actually, one time when Zorah got too drunk after a Trials match to go back to her place--I made Callix help me get her back here and dumped her in bed. In hindsight, I should’ve just told Rayya to heal her, even though Zorah hates when she does that, but-”

“You’re babbling, star-eyes,” Sheyd said gently, bumping into her shoulder affectionately. She fell silent, staring into her mug.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor in your own apartment because of me,” Crow said, firmly. 

He was about to start rearranging the cushions into a makeshift bed, but it was Glint’s turn to swoop in and make a decision on his Lightbearer’s behalf. “They can share, and he can sleep against the wall. It helps him.” Crow covered his face with his hands for a moment, composing himself, before looking up, almost hopefully.

She finally met his eyes, with another sleepy smile. “I guess that’s that, then.” 

He laid down as she placed the mugs and the teapot in the small sink, put the barely-touched cookies away. Glint took up his usual spot, but against his chest rather than on top of it--Crow had to lie on his side, back against the wall, to make sure Asteryn would have enough room. She clicked the strings of lights off, leaving the glow of their Ghosts and the whorls under their skin the only light in the room. Finally, she padded over and lied down facing him, tucking one arm under her pillow. After only a moment of hesitation, she placed her free hand on top of his, palm to palm, interlacing their fingers. It was the only place they touched.

Despite everything, she fell asleep first, her hand pressed to his and her hair loose and wild around her head. Sheyd was a gently glowing orb in the nest of her hair, giving her the illusion of a blue halo. Through eyelids growing increasingly heavy he watched Asteryn’s rhythmic breathing, the soft flutters of her lashes as she dreamed, and it lured him ever closer to sleep, too. Glint still hummed, tucked in the space between them against his torso, and a deeper calm than he thought he could--maybe even deserved to--experience washed over him. For this moment, enveloped in soft sounds and softer sights, his anxieties couldn’t reach him, and he let his eyes close and sleep descend, silent and smiling.

* * *

**End Notes:** Honestly I'm just posting this now because I want to post the next chapter so badly. It's a conversation between Crow, Glint, and Holliday, and it's basically me using that trio to roast myself. Good times. Will build on this as the season progresses, I think! 


	2. Clueless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crow seeks advice on how to kiss girls--well, one specific girl--from Amanda Holliday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't listened to much of their datamine dialogue, but I'm HERE for Crow and Amanda being friends. (I could even be here for them being more, honestly, but not in this collection's timeline, ha.) And yes, this is straight-up me making fun of myself for not letting them kiss after my versions of both reforging Hawkmoon and the Coup de Grace mission.
> 
> Lore Inspiration: General Amanda Holliday backstory, specifically how she and Lucia made lights to decorate a cave on the refugee road to the city.

“So, you’re tellin’ me you have literally _shared a bed_ with the girl, but you haven’t so much as _kissed_? You know Guardians don’t take a vow of celibacy or nothin’, right?” 

Crow couldn’t help but feel like Holliday was laughing at him. But, he reminded himself, the fact that she _would_ laugh at him was why he had sought her out. He leaned against the railing of her work station, watching as she masterfully dismantled a barely recognizable ship into its component parts, salvaging what could be reused. Normally, he’d be working alongside her, learning from the expert mechanic. But his head was elsewhere, and Holliday knew it. After the fifth time he sent a screw skittering across the floor, scaring Saint-14’s pigeons into a frenzied cacophony of noise and feathers, she’d banished him to the railing and demanded to know what was up.

Since that was Crow’s real motivation in seeking Holliday out today, he hadn’t even put up a protest. Instead, he told her about how he had spent the night with Asteryn, and how utterly not “juicy” a story it was, to use her word.

“I _know_ that,” he insisted. “Trust me, I have an unfortunately thin-walled room.” 

“Hang some blankets on your wall. It helps.” Crow couldn't see the mechanic, but he could hear Holliday’s grin in her voice. “You learn a thing or two, livin’ here as long as I have. But you, mister, are dodgin’ the question.”

He sighed, leaning back. “I am. I am a Hunter, after all. We dodge.” 

A metal bolt hit him square in the jaw, and he almost swore. Holliday had slid out from under the vehicle and was giving him a wicked smirk. Crow had the distinct sense that she had had plenty of practice pelting people with various odds and ends. “Stop dodgin’, then, and talk to me, newbie. This is the most entertainin’ conversation that’s stumbled into my workshop in weeks.”

Crow slid down so he was sitting cross-legged in front of her. He groaned, covering his face with his hands. “It isn’t that I don’t want to. I _do_. I just keep missing my opportunity.” 

Holliday quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you waitin’ for a handwritten invitation? Sometimes a girl likes when a cute someone just goes in for it.” Before he could object, she held up a grease-covered hand to cut him off. “I’ve heard the two of you on comms, and I’ve seen the two of you around the Tower. Trust me, she wants you to kiss her, don’t try to tell me she doesn't."

Glint laughed. “If you think they’re bad around the Tower, you should’ve seen them after they reforged Hawkmoon. The only reason they weren’t all over each other then is because they got too drunk too fast to do anything.” 

Could a Guardian die of embarrassment? Crow almost wished one could, so he could escape Holliday howling with laughter. But ironically, his Ghost had helped him figure out at least part of what his hesitation was. “It just never feels like the right time!” He blurted out. “I keep thinking of all the times I _should_ have kissed her, and the opportunities I have now pale in comparison. I mean, Asteryn outplayed the _Spider_ to demand my freedom, and all I did was kiss her on the head!” With another groan, he slumped over, head in his hands. 

“She literally pointed at him and said, ‘I want him.’ If ever there was an opening...” Glint added, twisting the knife. 

With a soft thud, Holliday sat down next to him, bumping her shoulder into his. “Hey, don’t look so gloomy, newbie. With all the thrillin’ heroics you two get up to, I’m sure another moment will present itself. Just remember, though, you don’t have to wait until the adrenaline of a battle is coursin’ through you to kiss someone. Quiet moments of stolen peace can be nice for that kind of thing, too.”

There was a sudden wistfulness to her voice that caught his attention. He looked over to her, and bumped her shoulder back. “Want to talk about them, whoever they are?” He asked.

Holliday shook her head with a sad laugh. “They’re long, _long_ dead and gone. I lost her before I even made it to the City, that’s how long ago it was. I was just a kid. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve kissed my fair share between then and now, but you never forget your first awkward, magical, perfect kiss.” Holliday’s eyes lit up and she turned to him with sudden realization. “That’s part of this whole hangup, isn’t it? You’re both so goddamn _new_ , this _is_ y’all’s first kiss, in this life, anyway!”

“Now who’s dodging questions?” He challenged, but he couldn’t deny that she had a point. 

“Listen, you can agonize over shouldas for days on end, but it won’t get you that time back.” Holliday kept talking as though he hadn’t said a word. “And all the time you spend agonizing now is time wasted, when you _could_ be tuggin’ her into a quiet little nook in the Bazaar, tucked away from the world, whisperin’ sweet nothin’s ‘til she’s a puddle in your arms.” Holliday grinned at him, noticing the blush creeping out from the edges of his mask. “That’s the problem with you Guardians. You get so used to havin’ all the time in the world that you forget to use it for yourself now and then.”

“Alright, fine. If you were in my position, what would you do?” 

She put her hands behind her head and thought for a moment, then shrugged. “What I do when I wanna kiss someone is, I kiss them. I’ll ask first to make sure, but in your case you already know. So I guess my advice is, the next time you see her and wanna kiss her, just kiss her.”

It was such simple, honest advice that it startled a laugh out of him. “I’ll keep that in mind, then,” he replied, smiling, even though he knew she couldn’t see it.

“Report back to me when it happens. I’m invested in this now!” She laughed brightly, an honest, cheerful sound, full of warmth and life. “And for the Traveler’s sake, if you end up in her bed again and don’t make a move, I’ll kiss her myself. You probably have the poor thing all hot and bothered with your constant bedroom eyes in her direction, she needs this just as much as you do.”

Crow made an inelegant sputtering noise. Holliday only laughed harder. 


	3. Dreamless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Asteryn's turn to be haunted by dreams she can't shake, because being a Guardian is being exposed to a parade of horror! Very mild references to the Presage mission. 
> 
> Original characters: Awoken Hunter Asteryn and her Ghost, Sheyd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Context for one line: I got the fic writer god roll on my first runthrough of Presage and the Darkness line I got while playing my Asteryn file was Uldren. She wouldn't know that's who it was, though--she just recognized Crow's voice. That definitely contributed to how badly that mission shook her up, heh. Good times. I know this one is a bit shorter than I typically shoot for, but I just wanted to write a very soft scene post-Presage.

She held it together through her debrief with Osiris, which was a relief. But she barely made it three steps away from the War Table before stumbling, catching herself on a nearby frame with a bleary apology. 

Sheyd materialized beside her in an instant. “You  _ need  _ to sleep. Please, Asteryn.” 

“I know. I’m trying!” She was, which was the worst part. But whenever she closed her eyes, she heard whispers that she couldn’t understand, saw dark vines erupting out of her or Sheyd or her fireteam. The worst was when that voice played through her head, so familiar yet so sinister, the voice of Crow-but-not. Even if she did steal a few moments of rest, she woke up with a silent scream on her lips and in such a panic that the sleep she did get was undone. Better to be awake and busy and letting the adrenaline of a Battleground or a strike course through her, focusing her attention to the pull of a bowstring rather than the threats lurking aboard the Glykon.

Her Ghost flew closer, touching his shell to her cheek. “I know you are. I’m sorry. I’m just worried--I can’t fix this.” He zipped out of her hood, went to float over the stairs. “Come on. I don’t trust you to transmat just yet.” 

Asteryn followed wearily. “What are you up to?” 

Sheyd led her down the stairs to a dim hallway, where two benches were placed against the wall. The little glowing orb hovered over one purposefully. “Sit. Or, even better, lie down.” 

“You want me to take a nap in HELM?” She asked dryly. The effect was ruined by a massive yawn tearing out of her. 

“I do.” He bounced up and down in the air, as though he were patting the bench invitingly. 

“This is incredibly silly,” she complained, even as she sat down next to where her Ghost floated. She leaned her head back, resting it against the wall. “But if it will make you feel better…”

Sheyd landed in her lap, his mechanical whirr almost like the soothing purr of a cat. She placed a hand on his shell, tucked her legs under her on the bench, and closed her aching eyes.

…

Between missions, Crow usually kept to the HELM. It was one of the places he knew without a doubt he was safe in, and he liked staying nearby because it meant that if anything came up, he’d be ready. Glint complained that he’d never make friends at this rate, but Crow suspected his Ghost was a little relieved by his caution, even if it was somewhat born out of awkwardness or anxiety. His preferred perch was below HELM’s main level, in the darker under-hallway. He could easily hear if anyone entered the HELM, but was also mostly left to himself unless someone knew to seek him out. Perfect for hearing everything while remaining unseen in the shadows.

But this time, when he headed for his spot, he stopped short. Curled up on the bench, her cape tucked around her like a blanket, was Asteryn. Her brows were knit in worry or fear, he wasn’t sure, and her mouth was moving wordlessly as though she was speaking in her dreams. Suddenly, her eyes flew open with a sharp gasp and she pushed herself into a sitting position, breathing hard and hugging herself. After a moment, she groaned, covering her face with her hands. 

Crow had woken up from his own nightmares many times before--he was familiar with the signs. Before he could overthink it, he walked over and sat down next to her. She jumped at his approach, eyes somehow going wider, but her shoulders relaxed when she recognized him. 

“Bad dreams?” He asked, keeping his voice low. She nodded wordlessly. This close, he could see the toll of many sleepless nights written on her face. Now that he thought about it, Asteryn had seemed muted and distracted lately. Her quips over comms--both to him and to her own fireteam--were few and far between, and she seemed distracted at mission debriefs. It had been going on for days, he now realized--ever since she returned from a special mission Osiris had given her and Sefi-18, in fact. 

Crow would have to ask Osiris what  _ that  _ was about. 

But for the moment, the immediate problem demanded his focus, not the root of it. “Do you want me to take you to your quarters? I know for a fact your bed is more comfortable than this bench.” He asked, but she shook her head immediately.

“Won’t help,” she said softly, staring into the empty space in front of her. “Might be worse there.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He gently turned her face so she met his eyes, forcing her to focus on him rather than whatever phantoms were plaguing her half-awake mind. 

He saw her bite her cheek thoughtfully, then look away again. “Yes, but not yet. I’m sorry.” 

“When you’re ready, I’m here. Until then, is there anything I can do?” 

Instead of replying, she let herself tilt sideways, until her head was resting on his shoulder. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her in place against him. “Can I stay like this? Just for a bit.” She asked, voice muffled by his cloak.

Crow gave her a small squeeze. “As long as you want.” 

…

Osiris found them later, both asleep. Asteryn’s head was still pressed peacefully to Crow’s shoulder, while Crow’s head nestled against hers. Both their Ghosts whipped around at his approach, making soft ‘shh’ noises while herding the Warlock away before his footsteps could wake their sleeping Lightbearers. 

_ Perhaps their next missions can wait _ , Osiris mused, holding his hands up in defeat to the two Ghosts as he retreated up to the War Table. Before attending to his work, he radioed Saint-14, requesting that the Titan bring over a blanket.


	4. Luckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a library study date, what else can I say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea of two incredibly new Guardians hanging out in the library trying to piece together the centuries of history they're now the product of. Also yes, Asteryn doesn't believe in sitting in chairs normally, she likes sitting on tables/the floor/anywhere but where she SHOULD be sitting.

Sheyd liked to joke that she had started her own “Remedial History of the Guardians” class, but Asteryn preferred to think of it as her own personal recon mission. What was studying if not intelligence gathering, after all? Besides, it helped that she found it genuinely fascinating. Spending her rare free time in the Tower’s library, poring over accounts of everything she missed, was rapidly becoming a highlight of her week. It was quiet, in stark contrast to the chaos of strikes and battlegrounds, and every reference made had a logical explanation only a few pages or swipes of a datapad away. 

Not that Asteryn minded combat--but there was a different kind of comfort in studying, she realized. Making connections between historical conflicts and their modern outcomes felt just as satisfying and right to her as landing a final blow with a perfectly aimed arrow. She wasn’t telling Sheyd that any time soon, though--she didn’t need him teasing her about her missed calling as a Warlock. She got enough of that from Sefi-18, Callix, and sometimes even Osiris.

_As if Warlocks have a monopoly on strategy and learning_ , she thought, paraphrasing the legendary Warlock himself. 

Most of her studies had focused on the Red War, due to the immediacy of the Cabal threat. She knew plenty of Guardians who had survived the war--Callix and Sefi-18 chief among them--but she wasn’t yet ready to ask them directly about it. Sefi-18 was a new Guardian at the time, and Callix had lost his entire fireteam during it. Asteryn didn’t want to tear open old wounds for the sake of her curiosity if she could help it. Stacks of first-hand accounts and combat debriefs couldn’t be re-traumatized. 

Asteryn was so absorbed in the document she was reading that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching or the soft conversation taking place between Ghost and Guardian. When a reddish-purple blob appeared in the corner of her eye, she gave a yelp of surprise and almost tumbled off the table she was sitting on, knocking over a pile of documents she had set aside for later perusal. 

“Asteryn! Imagine running into you here!” Glint’s chipper voice rang out in the now-empty library. Well, empty save for her, Sheyd, and the newly arrived duo. The little Ghost didn’t seem remotely bothered by the commotion his arrival had caused. 

Behind her, Crow laughed. “I should’ve tried to stop him. We didn’t mean to startle you.” 

She tilted backwards, so she was looking at Crow upside-down. Grinning, she asked, “Don’t you know not to sneak up on someone while they’re reading?” 

“You were so focused, I’m not sure there was any way we could’ve avoided it,” he replied, moving closer so he was standing next to her table, looking down into her face. “What’s so fascinating?”

Handing the datapad over her shoulder, she spun around so she was facing him. “A record of the Midnight Coup. Can’t hurt to know more about Caiatl’s thought process, right?”

He nodded, skimming the document. “That’s actually why we came here, too. We have a lot of catching up to do on Guardian history.”

Laughing, Asteryn gestured to the documents stacked around her. “Happy to swap notes, if you want. I’ve been spending my free time studying.”

“Oh, so that’s why I can never seem to track you down some days?” 

“I didn’t know you were looking for me,” she replied. She kept her voice light and even, but she could feel her pulse pick up. 

Glint laughed, swooping between the two of them. “When is he _not_ looking for you,” he said, dedicated as always to allowing Crow no dignity whatsoever. 

“ _Glint_ ,” Crow groaned, and the dismay in his voice made her laugh, which in turn startled a laugh out of him as well.

For once her own meddling Ghost came to her rescue, instead of adding fuel to the fire. “I was actually about to go scan for documents we missed in our initial look-through. Glint, would you like to come with me?” He flashed his eye at Asteryn in a conspiratorial wink, which brought out a lavender blush on her face. She could almost hear him snickering. 

In a blink, the Ghosts were gone, leaving her and Crow alone. Instead of sitting on the table next to her--or in a chair, like a normal library patron would--Crow stepped closer. Asteryn had to tilt her head back to see his face, causing her hood to slip off her head. She was _definitely_ blushing now.

“How long do you think we have until they come back?” He asked softly. 

With a surge of boldness, her hands strayed to the edges of his mask, itching to remove it. “No idea. But Sheyd is excellent at stalling.” She met his eyes. “Why were you looking for me?”

He placed his hands on the table, framing her with his arms and leaning forward, his forehead barely touching hers. “Originally, I just wanted to check on you. I know you’ve had to go back to the Glykon--I wasn’t exactly thrilled when Osiris told me. But when I couldn't find you, and you didn't come to see me, I started worrying you were avoiding me.” 

She swallowed, slightly guilty. If she was being brutally honest, she _had_ been avoiding him ever so slightly, as she tried to parse out what the voice on the Glykon meant. But with him this close, she had to admit how much she’d missed being near him. His voice in her ear during Battleground missions wasn’t always enough. Whatever voice she heard on the ghost ship, it was a voice that belonged to the dead--Sefi and Osiris, even Caiatl, all confirmed that. And Crow was very much alive. 

“Can I see your face?” She asked, instead of answering his unasked question. He glanced around quickly, confirming the library was empty, before nodding. Asteryn slipped the mask off and was met with his intense eyes and tentative smile. She brushed her fingertips over his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, bare fingertips on bare skin. “If you ever wonder where I am, you only need to ask,” she finally added. “I won’t hide from you, I promise.” 

He tilted her chin up, leaned in closer. She let her eyes flutter closed. 

“I cannot believe you left those maps in here!” 

They sprang apart, Crow frantically re-affixing his mask to his face just in time as a Titan and a Warlock barged into the room. They paid no notice to the furiously blushing pair of Hunters, making a beeline for a table across the room where a stack of maps was piled. 

“Sorry! I was distracted,” the Titan mumbled, scooping up the maps. “They’re still here at least, so no harm, no foul. Let’s get to planning, eh?” 

“Fine, fine,” the Warlock sighed heavily. “But let’s work in here. We already came all this way and that way we can’t forget anything else.” 

Crow groaned softly, letting his head fall onto Asteryn’s shoulder, and Asteryn, despite her own frustration, couldn’t help but start laughing. 

They spent the rest of the evening together, swapping notes and documents on the Cabal. Whenever they needed something, Sheyd or Glint zipped off to procure it. If their hands lingered a bit longer than needed when passing a datapad or pointing out an interesting passage, no one felt the need to comment on it. It wasn’t exactly what either of them had in mind, but it was an evening well spent.

* * *

**End Note:** If you're wondering what Asteryn looks like, please hop over to my Twitter to check out this [gorgeous art](https://twitter.com/ParacausalJeni/status/1365380972498333699) I commissioned of Sefi-18 and Asteryn! Hoping to commission more art/maybe even draw some of my own (I am not good hah) and will share it on my twitter. :D 


	5. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A near-death experience spurs Asteryn to action. (Spoilers for this week's story mission and cutscene!)

The datapad in Osiris’s hands dimmed with a sudden surge of Arc energy. He looked up just as Asteryn appeared next to the War Table, crackling with Light. She must have come straight from a Battleground: her armor was coated with Old Russia dust, and an ominous stain bloomed on her cape. 

“Do try to calm yourself,” he said, setting the datapad aside. “You’ll short out the War Table if you keep bleeding Light like you are.” 

The young Guardian sucked in a steadying breath. The sparks abated, but only slightly. “Is he ok?” She whispered, as though she didn’t trust herself to speak any louder. Were Osiris in a less sour mood, he might have laughed--only Asteryn would be more concerned about the fate of the so-called ghost that saved Zavala than the commander himself. Instead, he simply nodded, and she braced herself against the War Table in relief, finally letting the Arc energy swirling around her dissipate. “Where?”

“Preparing for his next assignment, I assume, and wisely far away from me for the time being,” the Warlock grumbled. “I am embedding him as Zavala’s bodyguard. Do not tell him I said this, but he did well. Had he kept his mask on, I may even have commended him.”

When Asteryn didn’t respond, he walked around the table to her side. After a moment’s consideration, he placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a comforting gesture he’d seen Saint-14 give countless times, although he suspected it was much less reassuring coming from him than from the warm, towering Titan. He was gratified when, after a pause of her own, the Hunter placed her own hand on top of his briefly in acknowledgement. 

“He is fine, Asteryn, as is Glint,” Osiris reiterated. “He is a Guardian, after all.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I know. I just also know that isn’t always enough. Especially when it’s an assassination meant for one of the Vanguard commanders.” She swallowed. “Osiris, we found a light disrupter. A small portable one, only enough to disrupt one or two Guardians’ light, but that would be enough. That’s why he did what he did. Even if it meant revealing himself.” After a pause, she added, “He wouldn’t know that Prince Uldren’s face might haunt Zavala.”

Osiris knew that after she returned from the ill-fated rescue mission Asteryn had spent some time on the Tower net, researching. He hadn’t advised her not to; Osiris knew the young Hunter well enough to know whatever she learned would change nothing about how she felt towards Crow. But in learning about Uldren Sov, the man whose voice she had heard the Darkness speak with, she had learned why Crow’s mask was so imperative to his safety. 

“You’ve been doing your research, I see, since you returned from the Glykon,” he finally said. Asteryn simply nodded in reply. He sighed, patting her shoulder once more before taking his hand away. “May I offer you some advice, young Hunter?”

She turned towards him, inclined her head. “I think you’ll tell me whether I say yes or no.”

Osiris snorted, but when he spoke his voice was serious. “This will sound very strange, coming from me, but listen well. Stop letting your mind race ahead of your reality. From the moment your Ghost raised you, you have been planning your moves so far in advance that you have forgotten to acknowledge what is in front of your own face. It is a mistake I have made many times before, and I am cautioning you against it now.” There was a question in her eyes, and he smiled behind his veil, despite the lingering pain and anger from his earlier conversation with Crow. The young Hunter’s questions and curiosity had that effect on him--she truly was wasted as a Hunter instead of a Warlock. “What I am saying, Asteryn, is that if you will regret leaving things unsaid or things undone, then you should prioritize saying and doing those things.” To drive the point home, he added, “ _Before_ I send him on a mission where he will regularly be deflecting assassins.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes, and in her face in the form of a faint lavender blush. “You’re almost as bad as our Ghosts, with your nudges,” she finally said, once she had overcome her surprise. 

Osiris did laugh then, a short, dry sound. How Sagira would’ve rejoiced with wicked mirth to hear him described so. The reminder of his lost Ghost caused pain to flash through his face, and he studiously looked back to his data pad. An alert chimed, and he glanced at the message before turning back to Asteryn. “Collect yourself, Guardian. And go to him.”

\---

He was safe. He was unharmed. She chanted it to herself, a background track as she made her way to the first garden. Osiris told her he was there, checking to make sure no evidence or lingering threats were left to find, so that was where she went. 

This assassination attempt was about to change everything regarding their offensive. They needed to know who was behind it, who gave the order. If it truly was Caiatl, then perhaps Lord Saladin and Holliday had a point, and an agreement could never be reached. Callix landed on that side as well, but then again Callix had been itching for an excuse to lay waste to the Cabal since the Red War and took to Battlegrounds like a vengeful god. 

She did not enjoy going on those missions with him.

But--and she would never voice this around the others, at least not without solid evidence she did not yet have--Asteryn wasn’t so sure that the empress even knew about this attempt, let alone sanctioned it. Caiatl’s reactions to their investigations aboard the Glykon, her thoughtful words and unmissable grief, did not belong to a ruler who would risk the only alliance that could save her people like this. Despite her leading the Cabal, Asteryn got the impression that she did not desire more death. She only desired life for her people. 

Regardless of who ordered it, the assassination attempt meant increased interference with the war council recruitment--and now, it meant Crow’s new mission. Becoming Zavala’s silent shadow, perpetually exposed to all the same risks the commander himself would be. Risks that would likely involve equipment that could stifle their Light. Crow was perfect for it, but she’d be lying if she said the thought of him in constant danger didn’t make her pulse race with fear.

Word of the assassination attempt had spread quickly through the Tower, but less so in the Last City. As she approached the garden, she passed people milling about, enjoying the pleasant breeze and going about their days. This part of the City was beautiful, and the first garden was someplace she had been meaning to go--sometimes she missed the calm growing greenery brought her, the feel of sunlight on her face and dirt beneath her hands. 

The garden itself broke the illusion of calm, though. It was blocked off to civilians--and possibly Guardians as well, Asteryn wasn’t certain. She launched herself over the barricade anyway, and would face the repercussions when and if they came. 

“Hello?” She called out softly, taking a few steps into the open area.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist, twisting it up and pressing it into her back, sending a surprisingly sharp bolt of pain through her arm. Instinctively, her free hand shot up towards her assailant’s face, Arc energy crackling around her fist, but just as quickly as she had been restrained her wrist was released, causing her poorly-thrown punch to go wide. 

“I’m sorry,” a familiar voice breathed. “I didn’t realize it was you. Did I hurt you?”

 _Crow_. She whirled around, cape snapping, and met his all-too-distinctive eyes. They burned into her with all the warmth of Sol, and her breath caught. The expression they held was somewhere between guilt and gladness, washed with weary exhaustion. Asteryn would bet he didn’t sleep at all, and might not sleep properly again for a good while. 

Without answering, she flung her arms around his neck, rising onto her toes to hug him tightly, pressing her face into his bare neck. His arms wrapped around her in return and held her tightly against him, one around her waist and the other cupping the back of her head, and he let his face fall to nuzzle into the top of her head. 

“You’re an idiot,” she finally said into his neck, mouth moving against his skin. “And a hero. And you almost scared the Light out of me.” 

“I won’t argue,” he replied, and she felt as much as heard his words. “I shouldn’t have had my mask off, I know. But I don’t regret what I did.” His hand on her waist flexed, clutching the fabric of her cloak. “I do regret scaring you, though.”

_If you will regret…_

Osiris’ words echoed in her mind. She loosened her grip on him and took a step back so she could see his eyes. But that wasn’t quite enough. Asteryn wanted to see _him_ , his dangerous but perfect, beloved face. 

“Can we go somewhere?” She asked softly, not trusting her voice at normal volume. “Somewhere safe,” she added, trailing a hand along his mask to drive her meaning home. 

His eyebrows shot upwards, but she could tell by the shape of his eyes that he was smiling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

\---

The weather in the EDZ wasn’t quite so warm as back in the Last City, but the breeze remained fresh and the sunlight warm as they made their way to the grove where they had reforged Hawkmoon. Freed from Fallen, it was one of the most beautiful and peaceful places Asteryn could think of. The waterfall filled the area with an almost musical roar, and the green-hued light suffused the area with a quiet calm. 

Best of all, once they were standing on the sliver of land at the water’s center, Crow finally slipped his mask from his face.

“Better?” He asked, voice low, as his laced his fingers with hers. 

This was quite likely the last time she’d be able to steal him away like this for a while, Asteryn knew. He wouldn’t be able to leave Zavala’s side for the foreseeable future, and even if he could she would be running ragged disrupting rites. This quiet, stolen moment would need to last.

_If you will regret..._

With sudden surety, she pushed onto her toes, balanced herself by placing her free hand on his shoulder, and pressed her lips to his. Asteryn was through with waiting. 

Crow’s eyes went wide. For a moment, she thought he might push her away. But then his hand went to the small of her back and _pulled_ , bringing her flush with his body while returning the kiss, fiercely. But after a disappointingly short moment, he pulled his mouth away. Before she could protest, though, he whispered, voice rough, “If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve insisted on coming back here sooner.” 

That startled a laugh out of her, and she fell back to the flats of her feet, moving the hand on his shoulder to his face--his unobstructed, maskless face. “Have you been thinking about this, then?” She asked, voice equally low. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

Grabbing his head with both hands this time, Asteryn surged back onto her toes and resumed the kiss. She gasped when one of his arms wrapped around her waist to steady her and press her close. His other hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, cradling it while holding her mouth against his. She caught his lower lip with a gentle nip and used the ensuing, perfectly soft moan as an opportunity to dart her tongue against his. Crow wasted no time, deepening the kiss at her slightest urging, pressing her against the pillar of rock at her back with the force of it. 

_If you will regret_ , Osiris had said. She had regretted not doing this since the moment she first left him in the EDZ after freeing him from the Spider, regretted all the times she hadn’t kissed him or whispered how much he meant to her. When she heard about the assassination attempt, and how Crow had been the one to foil it, the pain from just the idea of never telling him that she loved him had almost broken her.

She would not regret, not anymore.

\---

They broke apart with a gasp, remembering all at once a need for air. Crow noted with some smug satisfaction that her breath was rough, her eyes sparked hungrily, and her face was compellingly flushed. “I knew I always liked this place,” She breathed. 

“Me, too. Much nicer without the Taken,” he grinned, resting his forehead against hers. He met her eyes, and he felt flooded with heat. “I’m not complaining, not in the slightest, but why all of a sudden...?”

Her soft laugh sounded so _good_ this close. As she slid her hands from his head to his chest, framing the bird on his cape with her splayed fingers, she said softly, “I’m not about to let you defy death like that again without making sure I’ve made my feelings known.” Asteryn nuzzled into him, and he instinctively squeezed her neck in response. “I refuse to lose you. And you deserve to know, if you haven’t figured it out already,” she paused, took a breath, then looked up into his eyes again, “that I love you, Crow.”

The soft squeak of surprise she let out as he swooped down to steal a quick, rough kiss was music to his ears. “I did know,” he whispered into her ear, smiling at how it made her tremble, “but don’t let that stop you from saying it.” Experimentally, he nipped her ear gently, and the trembling gasp he was rewarded with almost made him lose all sense of control. He pulled away enough to meet her eyes in return and whispered, “You know I love you, too.”

Asteryn grinned up at him, tracing his cheek. “Of course I do.” Her thumb slid against his bottom lip and he let his eyes close, lips slightly parted. “But don’t let that stop you from saying it,” she echoed, before replacing her thumb with her lips once more.

When they next broke apart, Crow gasped, “Why haven’t we been doing this all this time, again? If you had kissed me after we took down the High Celebrant, just think how good we’d be by now.” He gave her a smirk, and an impish kiss on the tip of her nose. “Not that we aren’t good already.”

Asteryn giggled, but shook her head. “I couldn’t kiss you then. I wanted to, yes, when you asked me why I saved you. Such an obvious answer…” She trailed off as she pushed up on her toes, reaching for his lips with hers again, but he only let her brush her mouth against his. As unbearably tempting as it was to melt into her again, he wanted to know more. 

“You could’ve,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of stopping you.” He caught her chin and tilted her face towards his, his burning eyes meeting her electric ones. 

She smiled, and the promise in that smile made his pulse race. “No. I wanted--I needed to know that this wasn’t out of obligation.” She cupped his face with one hand, the other interlacing with his free one. “You were a prisoner newly free. If I had kissed you then, and you’d kissed me back, I would’ve always wondered if you did so because you felt you _had_ to in order to repay me, not because you _wanted_ to.” 

It was his turn to laugh. It came out husky and rough. “Asteryn.” He loved the effect he had on her when he said her name; her eyes fluttered closed, and her hand tightened on his ever so slightly. “I have never wanted anything more than I want you.” 

She pushed up for his mouth again, and again he only let her make the lightest of contact against his wicked smile. “You are _tormenting_ me, Crow,” she whined, reaching for his hood to pull him to her. He caught her hands with his, stopping her, and instead leaned down to press his lips to the sliver of exposed skin behind her ear, between her armor’s collar and jaw, earning him another soft gasp. 

“I’m not done yet, star-eyes,” he said, holding her hands in one of his against the small of her back. “Because your logic is flawed. I want you,” he breathed, twisting the end of her braid between his free hand's fingers, “and I love you, both because of who you are _and_ what you’ve done.” He kissed her nose again, the tip of her braid, her forehead, pressed the lightest of kisses to her waiting mouth. “You’re _my_ Guardian, _my_ light. You’re _mine_ ,” he said, voice low, before sliding his hand to the back of her head and pulling, finally letting their lips meet. He released her hands, and she threw them around his neck once more, holding his mouth against hers as though she refused to let him pull away again. 

Before coming to the Tower, Crow felt very little attachment to things out of self preservation. He had few possessions: the shroud he was buried in, a ring on a pendant around his neck. Apart from Glint, he had no one who he could confide in, or rely on, or simply quietly be with. He’d learned to mask what he felt, so that the Spider couldn’t use it against him, and he’d learned to vanish before people could start asking questions or get too close. The radiant Lightbearer in his arms, alternately gentle and demanding with her kisses, changed all of that. Stubbornly, she kept coming back, cheerfully working with him regardless of his unknown past. Stubbornly, she fought by his side, trusting him fully. And stubbornly, she helped convince him that he wasn’t consigned to wandering the system alone. 

\---

Maybe they stayed in the grove only a few minutes, or maybe a few hours--Asteryn had lost all sense of time, and if it never came back she wouldn’t complain, as long as that timeless stretch involved more of Crow’s mouth on hers or, maybe even preferably, elsewhere on her body. But as the sunlight faded and night descended, they reluctantly agreed that they had to return to the HELM. Crow’s new mission started immediately, and her fireteam would be looking for her soon.

They emerged in the lower hallway, where Crow tended to wait between missions. There were soft voices drifting from the direction of the War Table, but they weren’t quite ready to make their way up there just yet. Instead, Crow held her against him, her head nestling perfectly beneath his chin. 

But then the voices became louder, more distinct. 

“Ah! You came back.” That was Sheyd’s voice. He had waited by the War Table when she left in search of Crow, so that wasn't a surprise. But Asteryn stifled a groan at her Ghost’s next words. “If you’re looking for them, my sensors indicate they vanished to the EDZ a while ago. Based on my trackers for Asteryn's vitals, they’ve been kissing furiously.”

“I am not, but thank you, Sheyd,” Osiris’ dry voice replied. Crow made a strangled noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “It seems Asteryn took my advice to heart.” 

“About time,” Glint agreed. Seems like Crow's Ghost had decided to keep hers company while their Guardians were off seeking privacy. “I’m just impressed it _was_ Asteryn who made the first move. Crow’s been looking for his opportunity for weeks. I already told Holliday she kissed him first. That means dinner at the Drunken Noodle is on him.” 

With a soft laugh, she met Crow’s eyes. “You made a bet with Holliday?” She whispered, grinning.

He met her grin with his own and shot back, “You got relationship advice from Osiris?” 

His mask was back in place, but she pressed a kiss to where his mouth was hidden all the same. “I didn’t seek it out. But also, it _was_ good advice.” Finally, she took a step back, but left her hand comfortably ensconced in his. “We might as well get this over with. Let’s go collect our loudmouth Ghosts before they say anything else incriminating.” 

Crow’s soft laugh echoed in the hallway as they headed up to the table, still hand-in-hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I hope this lives up to any expectations that may have been formed. Who knows where this is going next... I'm writing this as the season progresses, so sometimes delays in chapters are because I'm waiting for the canon story to progress, like with the gap between last chapter and this one. But I have ideas for less story-dependent chapters, and might focus on those now that the kissing-ice has been broken, so to speak. ;D


End file.
